Father And Son
by Atthla
Summary: It's his choice to let go, as much as he hates it [GeorgxPrince]


**Father and Son**

**Author: Atthla**

**Disclaimer: **Suikoden V belongs to the great Konami, in which I have no part.

**Warning:** Spoilers for those who have not finished the game and gotten one of the best endings yet. There are lots of details which refer to said ending, so proceed with caution.

**A/N:** The first of its kind, I guess. Okay, so the title is 'Father and Son' but this isn't about Ferid and the prince. It _does_ have something to do with Ferid and the prince, but this is only a small attempt to explore the possibility of a romantic relationship between the prince and Georg, written from Georg's second POV. I know, given to the so-called best ending, this is fairly improbable, but then again, I tend to like improbable things. I can't really help it with a hero as pretty as this one. Push the 'back' button if this isn't your cup of tea, but do read on for those with stouter hearts.

This is re-uploaded. Thank you to **nissa** for the grammar correction.

* * *

He is nothing like his father. 

It is the thought that crosses your mind when he closes his eyes, leans in, and places his lips on yours as the moonlight streams down from the window onto his bright tresses. Ferid was so predictable, save probably for two occasions, when he married the Queen of Falena and when he asked you to kill said queen if the need arose. But then again, the latter was pretty obvious once you learned about the situation. You knew him. It was exactly what he would do and he wasn't afraid to sacrifice that much.

His son is gentle, often meek, ready to yield to his younger sister's every whim, but astonishingly also wield the power to overcome every difficulty and rise above others, to be the valiant hero he is now. To surprise everyone seemed to be his greatest talent during the war, both with his insight and bravery, his power to reach into people's heart.

In second thought, probably they are not so different.

Ferid had also kissed you once, under the charm of the best Kanakan wine and the stress of bureaucracy he had never tolerated very well, even though the lack of women perhaps also played a part in this. He remembered nothing in the morning after and you were grateful for that.

But this boy will remember. Probably for the rest of his life. And it _is_ this thought that puts you into motion.

"No," you hold his shoulders steadily, sensing muscles tightening under your gloved hands, and push him only far enough to have a respectable distance between two grown-up men. He looks up, hurt, but no more than a little surprised, and not even a moment later, you have found yourself facing no longer the young royalty but the man who has put an end to all of Godwin's dangerous schemes. His blue eyes harden and he slowly pries himself out of your grip, any sign of dejection carefully concealed beneath layers of experience.

_The war._ You don't know whether to curse it or just be grateful.

"I guess I am being overconfident," he says at last, his voice steady.

_Never the problem,_ you think quietly but decide to keep the opinion to yourself. You need not provoke him. In fact, the only thing you have to do is to make him leave your room as soon as possible, particularly after what he did only seconds ago. The fact that he is here is a surprise in itself. You had never thought that you would see him again after you said goodbye to him and Lyon at the bank of the Feitas until he suddenly appeared here, at a small inn near the East Palace, alone. Come to think of it, Lyon would never leave his side unless he fervently expressed his wish to do so.

Right. Lyon.

He crosses his arm in front of his chest, looking at the small window to his right, and you watch silently from the corner of your eyes. He looks nothing like his father. The regal bearing, the striking color of his hair, the almost feminine lines sculpting his face and stature; it is clear from whom he inherits all of them. It is clear that he is the prince of Falena.

And yet he kissed you.

"You say that you will never return," he speaks up again and those blue eyes hold your gaze steadily. "I suppose that is what makes me act so...sentimental. Forgive me."

War made the man out of him. You feel a smile creeping to your lips. He truly has the unflappable stateliness of his mother, something Ferid had never quite mastered until his death. He is going to be a fine leader of his people, and a wonderful companion to the new young queen.

"I heard you're going to be the Commander of the Queen's Knight," you finally speak, noting the rekindling of light in his eyes and feeling like knocking yourself in the face for it.

"It was agreed upon," he shrugs, some of the stiffness evaporating from his posture. "But I don't exactly mind. I will do anything as long as I can protect Lym and Falena."

That resolution. At last you find one thing that reminds you of Ferid in this young man. Ferid will be proud to see his son maturing into a strong, dependable man worthy of his title. And this young man, this _prince_, should live happily ever after, not getting involved in so atrocious of a scandal – with the murderer of his mother no less. He should marry a young lady worthy of his love, living a life far from scorn and prying eyes, be happy.

And so you remain silent, ignoring his eyes which are trained on you, trying to pay no heed to the unvoiced hope in them slowly withering into cold, barren desert. You aren't much of a martyr. In fact, you hate to take the role of a martyr, despising excessive altruism as much as Gizel's most atrocious schemes. Ferid had made you taken that path once and you cannot help but to smile bitterly now that his son also forces you – as unintentional as it is – to do more or less the same.

When he eventually looks away to the door, you have to restrain yourself from sighing in relief. "Well then, I've rented another room in the inn," he mumbles, almost as if speaking to someone unseen to his left. His eyes return to behold yours once more and you, once more, are taken aback by the depth of their colour. "Sorry for disturbing you. Good night."

"Good night," you hear yourself responding.

He walks to the door and you watch, listen to his every footstep until it suddenly stops. He turns around, emotions you rather not try to identify warring in his eyes, and his usually calm voice trembles a little when he says, "Don't say you'll never return."

"What...?"

Once again he fully looks at you in the eye, a determined expression residing on his face. "You heard me," he states calmly. "This queendom still has its arms open for you, no matter what foolish thought you are thinking."

"I killed your mother," you almost snap at him, frustration starting to take its toll on you. Why can't he see – and accept – this simple fact?

"If you didn't, you would have killed me too, you know," he replies, the first flickers of anger breaking his cool countenance. He takes one step forward and you would have taken one step back if your back has not collided with the wall already. "You would have killed Lym and everyone else in Falena. Attaining my forgiveness would be as close as impossible then."

You stare hard into his fierce eyes. "That doesn't change the fact that I killed your mother."

Silence stretches in the gap in between and you see defeat clearly as he looks away to his left, jaw set tight with stubbornness you saw only too often in your old friend. There isn't much you can do but to stare at him, wishing that he finally regains his common sense and _just_ leave.

There is nothing for him here.

"I..." he starts and you almost flinch at the tone of voice he is using, "can I do something?"

Unsure of his intention and more than a little wary – after all, this is the same person who, based on rather doubtful information, went through land and water and caves to break into Agate Prison for the sake of having the best of the best strategists – you say nothing and merely raise your eyebrows in question.

A twinkle appears in his eyes, like a lone star in the depth of the Feitas, and he takes yet another step forward.

"Close your eyes."

You stare at him. That isn't what you were expecting and definitely nowhere near what you were anticipating. You aren't that stupid. Although not quite familiar with this kind of things, you _do_ know them, courtesy of several of your own experiences and spending more hours of knightly duties with Kyle than you ever wished. You have learned that this sort of request usually has something rather...detrimental tailing behind.

And he smiles, a wistful little smile that tarnishes his imperturbableness before then saying, "It isn't what you are thinking."

Even though still partly unconvinced, you do as is told and wait, feeling more uncomfortable than you have ever been in your life, until the sound of a blade being unsheathed shakes you up. Your eyes fling open automatically, trained to be on guard upon such ominous sound. There he is, standing closer to you than you consider a safe distance, holding a dagger he always brings with him everywhere, its sharp point reflecting the moonlight. Noticing your eyes focused on the small knife, his smile widens and he seems almost amused when he remarks, "I said it is _not_ what you're thinking."

If anything, you are even more unconvinced than before. "Do you have to use that?"

He merely smiles and says softly, "Close your eyes, Georg."

Only he has that power over you, you decide when you lower your eyelids once more, never ceasing to wonder why the hell you are doing this. When his cold but steady fingers touch your face, you flinch but he doesn't pull them back. Your limbs feel stiff and you wait in rigid silence, trying to ignore the heat emanated from his body as he draws even closer.

It never arrives. There is no second kiss planted on your lips, as you are expecting. Instead, your left eyelid flutters as something warm brush over it and the next thing you feel – or hear – is his strangled voice whispering before your closed eye.

"Please keep him safe."

You remain silent, sightless until you hear him leaving and the door closing behind him, afraid of what you will see – and what you cannot stop yourself to do if you look at him now. The room is still dark when you open your eyes and for a long moment, you can only stare at the door, after his shadow, thinking about what cannot be and the ghost of a smile in Lyon's face.

You cannot help but to feel that this is the end.

His dagger is there, left on the windowsill next to your numbed hand, alongside what your dazed mind can only register as a part of his hair. The sight freezes you to your spot and you stare at the severed braid, for a moment wishing that it is only a fragment of your imagination. But it remains there, beautiful in its pale color under the moonlight, and you slowly reach for it. It feels soft under your rough fingertips, a piece of treasured memories, and yet you let it fall to the floor, shattered into thousands of lone, forgotten strands.

"For your sake."

You hear Ferid's scornful laugh echoing in the dark room but you cannot move.

* * *

**Ramblings: **The ending is a bit confusing, I know, but I just want to end it that way. Anyway, about this pairing, I don't really know where this comes from, but I like it. It has an Auron/Tidus feel in it although of course I like this one better (aka Suikoden bias in this matter XD). Writing the prince is rather hard because he doesn't exactly show a definite personality as the game progresses, seeing as we can choose how he will react on certain matters, so this is only what I see of him. Well, that's the best I can do. If you're still reading this far, please review, it will be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading my first Suikoden V fic! 

Again, if you are still reading this far, I have one question. How old is the hero exactly? If it is mentioned in the game, I don't think I pay enough attention then...


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